


Ties That Bind

by cassie_e



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-05
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-26 23:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/288908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassie_e/pseuds/cassie_e
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She lied to herself.  Elena knew that by running, all she was doing was enticing the chase. There was no use escaping the past, when a dead girl’s face stared back her every time she looked in a mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea I had. Ubeta’d for now, since I am trying to get out of a creative writing slump, so I am semi winging it. I cleaned it up as much as I could. So far, this story I have outlined up to chapter 7 and I am calculating it will be 20 chapters long, give or take. I will probably go back and revise any grammar and flow issues (hopefully my super beta will take pity on me later down the line).
> 
> Spoilers: Takes place after the events in episode 3.9 Homecoming for now. Also, I am sure show canon will change as it goes on, so this will probably be AU anyway in the long run.

_Holy water cannot help you now  
See I've had to burn your kingdom down  
And no rivers and no lakes, can put the fire out  
I'm gonna raise the stakes; I'm gonna smoke you out_

 _Seven Devils, Florence and the Machine_   
__

Prologue:

The temperature dropped in the evening announcing the early arrival of fall in Mystic Falls. Not that this mattered to a ghost—they were beyond such trivialities. Ayana slept, though she was still able to sense the change of seasons through what magic she had left.  A gust of wind rustled leaves on the forest floor near the mouth of the old cave, carrying whispers to her. Memories and regret clung like cobwebs in her mind as time passed and the world changed. Nevertheless, this limbo allowed Ayana to observe the world, how mortals made the same mistakes time and time again. It would be so simple to interfere, but that was not her place anymore—it never was. A balance must be kept, always. So she watched and slept, if one could call it that—finding stillness in her mind that allowed her to fall into a haze of a dream within dreams. Sometimes she would wake on her own, forget who she was and little by little the memories would come back into awareness.

Though there were times when she was awoken, startled into being. Like now.

“Ayana. Ayana,” hands shook her from her slumber. She knew who it was before her eyes snapped open in anger. “Esther.”

The blonde woman scolded her, “I have been looking for you, searching…and all this time you were here. Out of the places, you rest here.” The last part said in sadness as she scanned the drawings on the cave walls. Her hand lightly reached as if to trace the rune letters of name in particular. Niklaus.

Ayana roughly pushed away and stood up. “Sometimes, Esther, the dead are allowed their sleep, or have you forgotten?”

“You must help me, Ayana, the balance has to be restored.” Esther frowned, clasping her hands together in supplication. “I cannot have true peace until…I fix what I have forced upon my children.”

“You made your bed, now lie in it, _my lady,”_ Ayana said. “Besides, the dead do not interfere in the business of the living.”

Esther’s lips tightened into a thin line of displeasure. “He broke the curse, he figured out that girl must live. He is free to do as he wills; he will destroy the world, Ayana! I must stop him. I should have done it from the start. He is too impulsive to know how to control…”

Ayana interrupted her. “I have always found curious how the children must bear the mistakes made by their family. I warned you and Mikael, so very long ago. I warned you, Esther!” Anger took hold of her, causing the earth around the cave to shake and tremor, causing rocks fall from the ceiling. She shook and curled her hands into fists, her stare accusing, “Leave me be, I wish to be in peace. Or do you forget that reason I am still here is because of you?”

Esther looked away, ashamed. “Mikael is dead and the weapon carved from the tree is destroyed. The doppelganger still lives. I…failed in…eliminating her. I did not consider other factors that would interfere in this matter. As long as she lives, Niklaus will burn down the world in his recklessness.”

Ayana laughed bitterly at her old friend.“Good riddance to that bastard. It was because of him you committed such foolishness. His damnable pride. You always hated that girl, did you not? You always envied her place with the wolves. She is the bane of your very existence and of your son’s. To think if she would have lived, she would have been the source of great magic that would keep the balance between both worlds. The gods favored her and you ended her life to fix the mess you made. Did you not think that there would consequences, Esther? You should have never touched the girl or done what you did. The darkness you unleashed, that balance is forever lost and humanity now pays for it.”

Esther narrowed her eyes, resentment shining through. “I had to protect my family! I warned her to stay away from my family. It is her fault Henrik was taken away from me. She destroyed everything, she placed my son’s life in danger! She was an imbalance to begin with, Ayana, she never should have lived and now this particular doppelganger lives still.”

Ayana countered back. “You forget, old friend, that Goddess spared and blessed her. She will always live on now and she will be reborn time and again. You never accepted the fact that he choose her over you, hmmm? In the end, your own son did as well.”

Esther shrugged, hiding her anger in a mask of nonchalance. “It matters not now. What was done, was done. I am only trying to make things right once more. He must be bound again.”

“In that case, so are the rest of your children. This isn’t just about Niklaus, so don’t presume to pull the wool over my eyes, Esther. I am dead and old, but not stupid. I do not know what agenda you carry, but I will not be part of it. I refused you before and I will refuse you again.”

Esther changed tactics, pleading once more. “I need help in binding him, again, Ayana. I don’t have magic strong enough to do so in this realm. The other witches…shun me. You were my friend once, your magic is still great, your line lives on…”

“Once was a very long time ago. We are friends no more,” Ayana stated with an air of finality. A whisper of a familiar voice spoke to her, making her pause. The girl materialized out of nowhere, dark eyes and a long braid of hair trailing over her shoulder. She wore a one shoulder buckskin dress the color of ivory, trimmed in indigo blue; Ayana looked at Esther, then at the girl again.

The girl spoke softly, “She cannot see me. Only you. You must help him, Ayana.”

“Give me one good reason why I must help…you?”

Esther answered without knowing who the question was directed at. It was true; the older woman could not see her. “He is my son, I caused this, I bound Niklaus to protect him, to protect others, I must restore the balance.”

The girl glared at the blonde woman. “She’s lying. Do not trust her.”

Ayana asked. “You never did, did you?”

Esther frowned, confused at the question. “I never did what?”

The girl’s anger melted away, smiling sadly at older woman, “Love him. Hers was a selfish love. She never loved him enough. He always knew that.”

“ That poor boy was just a pawn to you. Do not lie to me; I knew what you planned for Niklaus. You knew of the prophecy and girl’s part in it. But Henrik’s death changed things, is not so? You listened to Mikael’s pride and your own.”

Esther stiffened at the accusation. “We all make mistakes, Ayana. I am just trying to rectify them.”

The girl said, “He can be saved. There is a way. He is darkness, but where there is darkness, there is light. It’s there, Ayana, I know it is there. This was never meant to happen.”

Ayanna shook her head. What Esther said was true despite her own personal feelings in regards to her son. Niklaus was an abomination and affront to nature, such a dangerous being should not exist. “The balance cannot be restored. You cannot undo what is.”

“You do not understand. She is the balance. The girl must live.” The girl smiled sadly, touching her throat in memory. “Just as I did not. You did foresee it after all.”

Ayana nodded, agreeing. She hoped not to regret her meddling and would pray to the Goddess and the spirits for forgiveness. Maybe if she would have intervened and succeeded in convincing Esther long ago, things would’ve turned out differently. Maybe after all this was over, she could finally rest in peace.  Bring them both peace.

Ayana looked at her friend, “Very well, I will help you, Esther. It will not be easy and it could cause more harm than good. What you are asking has never been done before.”

Demurely, she bowed her in gratitude, but Esther’s smile was one of triumph. “You won’t regret this, Ayana. This is a good thing we are doing.”

 Ayana caught the bare whisper of bitter laced words as the girl began to fade away.

“I never did trust her. But she did slit my throat and killed my mother—so my judgment maybe slightly hindered in respect to Lady Esther.  Be wary of her, Ayana. Love, even a mother’s love leads to recklessness. I will help you when the time comes. ”

And then she was gone.

 

*********

 

The man sniffed the air, following the scent of decay and death. The wind made it easy for him, carrying it to him that all he had to do was follow. It didn’t take long to find the shallow graves woods near the mountains. The area was quiet, given that the local animals had avoided scavenging the area. The scent of spilled blood still clung to the air, along with a familiar one. The man’s eyes shifted to light amber as he recognized it. “Niklaus.”

 Rage nearly overtook him and he howled his frustration. The bastard had eluded him for the past eleven centuries. The last time he had been this close was during the 15th century, in England, but once again, with the help of his brother, Niklaus had once again managed to escape.

He mourned his fallen brothers and sisters a moment longer before following the scent further, when another scent caught his attention as he neared a shallow lake, a very familiar one, though it was not possible unless it was another doppelganger. He inhaled deeply, letting it fill his lungs, breathing her scent in. Yes, it was her. She had been here.

The man eyes widen in disbelief, he couldn’t believe his good fortune. Oh, he will destroy Niklaus in the best way possible, but finding the girl would sweeten the deal considerably.

He pulled out his cell phone, dialing the number quickly, “Otto, yeah, get the pack together. I have a scent. Yeah, it was him. No, he had the consideration to clean up his mess this time. Have Xavier run a photo scan, she had to be near the area. Yeah, it’s her. I am certain it’s her. I don’t care if he has her. She’s _mine_.”

No sooner had he shut the phone closed, when he saw her. His breath caught in his throat. She was still has lovely as ever. The last time she had appeared before him was when he killed the dark haired girl in Germany. His prey had shared a vague resemblance to her, but her eyes had been blue. He did not make her death an easy one after the assault.

She had looked down on him as she did now. Some things would never change.

The girl said with contempt in her voice. “I was never yours, Cimil. Even after all these years, you still don’t see that. We will never belong to you.”

Cimil chuckled, the shock wearing off. “That’s where you are wrong, Iskra. This girl, she will fulfill the prophecy; you recall the prophecy don’t you? The one you died before fulfilling? The best part is she will lead me to Niklaus. I will stop that abomination from destroying our bloodlines.”

Iskra offered only silence as she faded away. Cimil smiled at her sullen retreat, speaking to the empty woods around him, in case she was still nearby. “Besides, I am not going to kill her, if that’s what you are worried about, Iskra, you know why? She’s not like the others, they were just… _practice._ This girl, she has  your damned treacherous face and I am going to have _so much fun_ with her. ”

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some liberties with some Mayan folklore to create the myth of how werewolves came to be.  
> The story in the beginning will go back forth, between Mystic Falls 2011/2012 (events after Homecoming that show why Elena left Mystic Falls), future verse where Elena is on the run and in hiding in 2015, lastly, around the late 10th century, early 11th century—1006 A.D.), during the time of the Original family co existed with the werewolves which is when it roughly took place? (Given my research, also Rebekah said that even after 1000 years, the original witch was still screwing with them, so I did the math and yeah, took some creative license).

_I cut and run I ran until I stumbled  
I struck out alone a rolling stone  
Forty days came up and down  
I chased the river to the source  
I met a girl on a pale horse  
She pressed her fingers up against my lips  
And I fell down dead and gone_

 _\--Train to Jackson, Jeffrey Foucault_

 

 **  
_2015, Dolores, Colorado_   
**

_“Hello, sweetheart, time to wake up.”_

The alarm woke her up rudely at six thirty am and Elena Gilbert gave her thanks by slamming her hand down on it, shutting it off.  Maybe it was a good thing. She sighed and restrained the urge to shudder at the silky voice from her dream that echoed in her head. They were getting worse each night. She had dreamed of Stefan, when things were good between them, only to have him change into the man that killed her brother and Stefan. He called her Iskra and pinned her down, choked her slowly. Only to have his hands turn gentle on her, skimming and mapping her body, lips applying light pressure on her throat causing Elena to cry out in pleasure and then the face was no longer her brother’s killer, but that of another enemy with a crown of blonde hair and blue eyes that gleamed wickedly at her. _“Klaus.”_

 She kept her eyes closed, letting the silence of her current home drift her back to a semi-sleep. She listened hard for any sound out of place, like Alaric had taught her before she left Mystic Falls, the quiet that was too quiet, too still—usually was a warning that something wasn’t right.

 _“Use your instincts, Elena. Always go with your gut. Don’t let your guard down, ever.”_

The birds chirped outside her window, singing their morning song and if she listened hard enough, she could her hear the old clock downstairs ticking down the minutes. Elena forced herself up from her bed, her feet padding across the cold floor of her room to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and stared at her reflection. She smiled cynically back, studying herself. She felt older than her twenty two years, like she carried the weight of centuries on her shoulders. It was an odd sensation, one she couldn’t shake in the past two years. Grief has leaned out her face, Elena touched the short ends of her pixie cut hair, tugged the ends lightly, missing her long locks.  A light scar skimmed across her nose, she traced it, smiling at the imperfection.

 _“You think a new hair cut doesn’t make you look like us, you are sadly mistaken.”_

Katherine and the Other Girl looked out from the mirror; the former smirked at her and the latter gave her a sad smile, three faces exactly alike and Elena swallowed hard and shut her eyes tight willing the vision away. “You are…I am not you. I am not you.” She opened her eyes to find herself alone, the visions of the two girls gone. She quickly opened her cabinet and popped open the bottle of medicine and took out one pill. She filled a glass of water and tossed the pill in her mouth and swallowed.

She placed the glass back down firmly and said to the reflection, “I am not crazy.”

Elena brushed her teeth and gave the mirror one hard look before stepping back into her room. She changed into a pair of sweats and running sneakers. Making her way downstairs, she made a light breakfast before her morning run. She glanced at the calendar on the wall, at the lines drawn through each day. Another line would adorn today’s date.  One more day to get through, alive and safe, that’s all she had to do.  Survive. 

Elena was used to the silence of her days, but mornings were the hardest. Mornings she remembered too much, the memories forcing her to remember what she had lost. She looked at the empty chair at her table and could see Jeremy sitting down in their old kitchen, sullenly eating his breakfast, annoyed at her for waking him up to go to school.

 _“Running, Elena, really? Is this some diet phase you are going through? You are skinny as it is.”_

“I have to run, I have too…speed is an asset. It keeps you alive.”

 _“Living is overrated, sis.”_

“To live, Jer. That was always your problem; you were so in love with dying, ever since…why didn’t you run? Why didn’t you run, Jeremy? Why!? Are you happy now, huh? You left me.” The last was shouted to the empty chair and Elena held back the tears that threaten to fall. She chewed her toast thoroughly and drank her juice spiked with bitter taste of vervain. “I am not crazy.”

 _Stefan smirked at her across the table. He made a cuckoo motion with his hand. “A little too late for that, Elena.”_

Ignoring the vision and the guilt that came with it, Elena stood up and placed the dirty dishes in the sink. Before she went into the living room, she glanced back to make sure the kitchen was empty. In the closet by the entry way, Elena took out the box on the top shelf and pulled out the .40 pistol that Alaric gave to her before leaving town.  She made sure the silver bullets were loaded, the safety on and strapped on the holster, zipping up her jacket.

She took a deep breath before taking off to the trail near the cabin house she rented.  Elena took her time, slowly building her speed and enjoying the burn in her legs and lungs as her muscles warmed up. The scent of pine filled the air as she made quick work of the trail. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, while she focused on her rhythm and increased her speed.

 _“Speed is your friend, Elena. Vampires are stronger and faster than you. Remember, they will eventually catch up with you. And we don’t get winded, so…it sucks to be you. No pun intended.”_

“Shut up, Damon.” Elena breathed out, coming to the crest of the trail; she enjoyed the view of the mountain side as she came to rest. This was her routine, everyday, wake up, fight off whatever vision or hallucinations that came to haunt her ever since that fateful night four years ago. Routine was good; it kept her sane for the past year. Her run would lead her into town, where she would continue her conditioning in a dojo owned by an old friend of Alaric. Later would be work at a local coffee bar, not that she needed it, her parent’s life insurance policy helped—but the routine made life more normal.

She left Alaric in charge of selling the house—though it still physically hurt to let go of her childhood home, it held too many ghosts and Elena had plenty of them haunting her. The boarding house really wasn’t hers to begin with, so she left it to him for safe keeping.

Noise stirred Elena from her reverie and out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. She tensed and held her breath, waiting, when a large wolf poked his head out boldly from the brush. He was breathing taking in size alone with a dark tawny golden pelt. Her throat constricted as the fear fought to take over her. Yellow eyes stared back with an uncanny intelligence that reminded her of a past encounter with such a creature in the woods. It did not come closer and eerily just watched her with curious interest.

A wolf would never be this close to town, it could Him. She tried to reason that it couldn’t be her brother’s killer. It was daylight, so it couldn’t be him. But it could be worse, it could be…no. Elena shook her head. He had disappeared from Mystic Falls after the night of the ritual that landed her in a coma for a year.  Even though she struck a bargain with him, he had vanished, even after Rebekah had tried to take her to him after Jeremy’s death.

Regardless, she still felt a vague sense of his presence, a ghost, almost as if he was nearby, with her, at her side, in her mind. Pieces of memories that weren’t her own came to her so vividly, Elena could swear had lived them. It was hard tell at times, whatever the witch did those four years ago it had made difficult to tell the difference between what was memory or reality.

 _“Go on, my dear, say my name. You said so well the night before.”_

Elena gasped, the voice sounded so close, whispered into her ear. She whirled around and the only company she had were of spruce, cottonwood and pine trees surrounding the trail. When she turned

around, the wolf was gone. Elena gave a cry of relief and crumbled on the trail floor, sobbing as her nerves threaten to overwhelm her.  Had it been real or it had it been like the others? The thought did not comfort her.

After a few moments, she managed to compose herself before getting back on the trail to finish her run. She made her way to town, feeling slightly better, despite her mini breakdown. It could have been worse, on the bad days. This was a minor setback, but that was okay. She would be okay, she would survive this.

One more week until she would move on to the next place, last month had been Big Sky, Montana. Prior to that, Las Vegas, Houston, Kansas City (before she discovered a pack of werewolves to close to town), Baton Rouge, Detroit, Buffalo and Toronto. This time, perhaps New York, she could keep to the suburbs.

Elena lived with the perpetual fear that if she stayed too long in one place he would find her. It haunted her every second of every day. It was better to keep moving, keep running, Katherine had it right all along. They were more alike than she cared to admit.

 _“It’s okay to love them both, I did. It’s our curse, Elena.”_

She lied to herself.  Elena knew that by running, all she was doing was enticing the chase. There was no use escaping the past, when a dead girl’s face stared back her every time she looked in a mirror.

 

******

 

“See you tomorrow, Charlie,” Elena waved back goodbye to her coworker.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home, Marie. It’s awfully late and…”

Elena smiled, ignoring the use of the current alias she was using. She grabbed her bag that contained her change of clothes from the dojo from under the counter. She winced as her sore muscles protested from her sudden movement from the training session in the morning. It hadn’t been her best performance, she had been distracted and her movements had been unfocused and sloppy. “I will be okay. No worries, I will be extra careful.”

  
The night was a chilly as she opened the café door; she hurried on out, shivered and walked briskly to keep warm, boots lightly tapping on the sidewalk. Elena unzipped her jacket, just in case of any trouble. Reaching the corner, she suddenly heard the sounds of a fight, a young blonde woman screaming for help as she struggled with her attacker. The man had her locked in tight hold, black hair slicked back, his face buried in her neck. Sensing in audience, the man looked up and she saw his eyes, his fangs and she gasped. Before she could stop herself not to get involved (a prior run in Baton Rouge six months ago had taught her it was best not to get involved), she cried out furiously, “Get away from her.”

“That was just dinner, pretty girl. Now it’s dessert, let’s have taste shall we?” The man advanced too quickly before she could reach for the vervain vial in her pocket. Elena fought the paralyzing fear that gripped her before breathing through it and ducked under his grasp, took hold of him by the shoulders and slammed her knee into his gut. She landed a solid jab to his face, but the vampire hissed and laughed at her attempt. He easily grabbed her by the throat and squeezed tightly. She gasped and black spots danced before her eyes, when she managed to slam her fingers into his eyes and pressed down hard. The vampire howled in pain, shaking her like a ragdoll as he refused to let her go. Elena fought against the darkness overtaking her as she gasped for breath. This was stupid. After all the running, to die in this way. Never get involved, that had been her rule since Baton Rouge.

 _“Now this entertaining. Need help, sweetheart?”_

Elena groaned as the voice caressed through her mind. Out of all the people to hear as she died, it had to be him. She felt a sudden wave of fury that was not her own that it made her choke as she fought for air. _This was not the time to hallucinate, Gilbert_. Her fingers barely brushed the outer edge of her pocket, when the vampire’s hold dropped her to the sidewalk. She cried out in pain as her body hit the hard surface, but not before a spray of blood washed over her and the vampire slumped over, a gaping hole in his chest, where his heart used to be.

She looked at the body in shock as she coughed, gasping. Her lungs rejoiced in breathing once again. As her vision cleared, a shadow washed over, and Elena looked up and felt the air go out of her once more.  This was it. It was over. She fought back the urge to cry and hugged herself. Maybe it was a vision, another hallucination, Elena prayed it was, she closed her eyes tight and shook her head. “You aren’t real. This isn’t real.”

Her savior chuckled and replied dryly, the accent hiding the underlying fury in politeness. She heard the thud of the heart of the vampire drop beside its previous host. It landed with a wet smack on the sidewalk. She heard him move closer down to her level, she could smell the blood, almost taste in her mouth, sweetly metallic. “Ah, sweetheart, but I am. Very real.” She felt a firm grip on her chin; the blood was still warm on hands. He tilted her head up toward him.

She opened her eyes to find a familiar pair of blue watching her intently.  Elena swallowed hard, refusing to show him anymore fear. “Klaus.”

He smiled, though it belied the anger radiating off him. She couldn’t explain how she could feel it. Maybe she was crazy. Her heart pounded in her chest and fear paralyzed. Unbidden, the memory came to her, of another pair of blue eyes teasing her so very long ago.

 _“See, if you let fear take over, Elena, you’re dead. You have to admit, you do have that pesky habit of finding yourself to close that state quite often. Let’s try to work on that. Your form is sloppy, throw the punch with your body, throw with your hip, it should be extension of your…what is that? Stop hitting like a girl.”_

 _Elena rolled her eyes.“I am one. What would I do without your charm, Damon?”_

 _“Your world would be a cold and dark grey place, babe.”_

 _“I am not…don’t call me babe. I am not anyone’s babe anymore.” Grief overwhelmed her suddenly and her heart ached._

 _“I love it when you get all Jessie Spano on me.” Damon’s lips brushed against her neck, the action more comforting and enjoyable than she cared to admit. “Not yet, anyway.”_

Klaus snapped his fingers, the sound jerking her back into awareness. “Over here, love.”

His took his time; not saying anything as his gaze seemed to drink her in. The pause gave her time to study her opponent. The intensity of his stare made Elena think of the dream she had earlier in the day, of those same elegant hands, currently gripping her chin painfully, doing delightful things to her body.  Despite her terror, she was taken aback by his appearance. She noticed he was paler than normal and fatigued, beads of sweat dotted his brow as if killing the vampire as taken great physical effort. Since when do vampires sweat? After all these years, she knew nothing a vampire, especially a hybrid did took much effort.

 He leaned forward, eyes narrowed as he could hear her thoughts. “It’s not polite to stare, Elena.”

Elena shrugged. “It’s not polite to rip someone’s heart out, either. Yet here we are.” She couldn’t stop the smart response, even if she wanted to. She was tired, so very tired of this game. If she was going to die, she rather it not be in a mockery of good manners. Not that he wanted her dead, yet. He still needed her. Her blood.

Klaus grinned. “That’s my girl. Well, it’s been a long time, love. As you recall, we had a deal. Quite the little chase you have given me this past year. I must confess I was starting to lose my patience with our game.” His gripped tighten and she winced. “I was beginning to think you didn’t like me very much, Elena, with all this traipsing about the country. It can be quite exhausting. I was rather found of Vegas for a while.” Klaus tilted his head, remembering fondly. “You used Roxie then, right? You wore that delightful gold uniform at club you worked at. I liked it; a little vulgar—but enjoyable nonetheless. Left nothing to the imagination.”   

She felt nauseous at the revelation. How long had he been onto her? Elena had been so careful, following Alaric’s advice, to disappear, so nobody could track her down, including Damon. Not that he would be, not after all the things she told him that night. She glared at him, “Go to hell.”

“Tsk, tsk, is that any way to give thanks to the person who saved your life?”

Elena smiled and forced the hysteria down. Her fingers released the gun from the holster, removing the safety. “You are right, where are my manners?” She pointed the gun at him as she pulled the trigger, “This is a much better way.”

A second later, her world exploded in pain.

******

 

986 A.D.

 

The summer storm had released its fury a week ago, living the air sticky with humidity and clear skies.  The chaos of the great thunder god, Chac took its toll on the villages to the far east of their settlement when the river overflowed, destroying many homes and crops. It had also taken the lives of the poor souls who were not able to get to higher ground in time. The scent of wet earth permeated the air and Itzel relished her brief freedom from her evening chores and the bickering of an ill tempered pack of wolf walkers. She had snuck out after supper, since her duties to Capoira, the pack’s priestess and keeper, were done for the day. The heat of the night made her ache for a swim in the river that bordered the neighboring village. It was a quite distance away, but she didn’t mind, Itzel could already imagine the cool water on her skin. A bead of sweat dripped down, causing a dark curls to stick to her forehead. Iztel pushed them back in exasperation.

Nothing ruined a full moon run more than the odor of wet fur and muddy paws. The unruly weather had kept their prey out of sight and tempers were running high. It was a restless time for the pack, especially, when Micah, the alpha lost his mate to a fever a fortnight ago.

It didn’t help matters that Caipora spoke of a great darkness that would cover the land, but also of a great prophecy that would deliver them from its destruction.  That Ix Chel’s daughters would be reborn and deliver them from their punishment at last.

Itzel heard the story many times as child. It was always told to the children of the pack to remind them of the great responsibility they bore, if they chose to embrace the curse when the time came.

It was said that Ix Chel, the moon goddess fell in love with the sun lord and she bore him twin daughters.  The sun soon became jealous, fearing that Ix Chel loved his brother, the morning star. To punish her, he cast their daughters out into the world, where they took the form of the wolf, one white and one dark, the balance of day and night. Unknowingly, when taking such a form, they were reunited with their mother every night, for soon after their banishment, Ix Chel left the sun lord and now hid in the darkness of the evening.

During a full moon, a hunter caught sight of a wolf with pelt as white as snow. Seeing it as a sign of good fortune, he shot his arrow through its heart. He did not see the dark wolf, hidden in shadows until it fell upon him, tearing his throat out, but not before he dug his blade deep in its heart. Ix Chel, heartbroken and furious, revived the man and cursed him to take the shape of the wolf on every full moon.  His children and their children would be cursed to this fate, if they ever took the life of another human being.

It would continue to be thus, until her daughters were reborn and they would free them from the curse of the moon, ushering in a stronger generation of wolf walkers.

Many of the pack thought it was nonsense, though the Old Ones still kept hope.  Itzel secretly believed the prophecy to be true, though she didn’t voice her thoughts to her friends. They were few to begin with, given that she had refused the rites that would curse her to the moon’s power when she came of age.  

After what seemed like forever, she finally reached the river. Itzel had barely cupped her hands to drink the cool water, when she heard a rustling of leaves and movement. Her pack kept peace with the neighboring village, but there were the rare occasions of foolish and arrogant humans, who liked to try their luck at hunting the “demonic wolves.”  She paused and reached for the dagger strapped to her arm and called out, “Who goes there?”

The noise stilled upon hearing her voice. Itzel threaded lightly in the direction of movement, as she neared, a flash of light dashed across her path, a wolf, its pelt of pure white.  She gasped out loud. There were no white wolves in the region, how could it be?

The wolf was small and quick. Though she was not a wolf walker, she still lived among hunters and huntresses—the instinct to give chase was too inbred in her bones. Itzel ran after it, ducking and dodging tree branches that got in the way.

The wolf began to slow down; it’s right foot limping slightly. It must have injured itself during the run. Itzel closed in and took the chance that it might understand to call out once more. “Stop, please, I am not going to hurt you!” She was being fanciful, for a normal wolf wouldn’t understand her words.

The wolf kept running, when it stopped suddenly and ducked down behind a large oak tree. The half moon shone a clear path to, brightly guiding the way through the wood. Itzel slowed her pace to a brisk jog until she reached the tree.

Instead of finding the injured wolf, instead she found two girls huddled together asleep. She gaped momentarily, still not understanding what had just occurred. Had the wolf been a vision? Why on earth were these girls here, alone?  One of the girls woke up, startled brown eyes glancing upwards. Itzel could tell the girl was very young, no more than six summers old. Their hair was dark and tangled, their clothes dirty and torn. The other girl did not stir at all, her breathing very shallow. The moonlight revealed identical faces.

 

******

 

“You will take the surviving child back to where you found her!” Micah demanded. “You have put us at a risk by bringing them here. We have a peace with the human villages and I will not endanger it by stealing their young. The other girl has died already, how do you not know that they will not place her death at our hands, Itzel?  You have done a foolish thing!”

 The younger woman pushed the young girl behind her and shook her head defiantly, all while keeping her gaze downward in submission. “No, Micah. I saw the white wolf, it lead me to them. It is a sign! She has been through a terrible ordeal, she has no family, her entire village is gone! We—I cannot abandon her to the mercy of the elements. She is just a child!”

“I am your Alpha! You will do as I say!”

The girl in question, known as Anastasiya Petros, shuddered at the angry mans shouts. She pressed her face against her survivor’s buckskin skirt. It felt soft and soothing against her cheek, a poor comfort in light of her twin’s passing. The tears had dried on her cheeks, but they threatened to spill again. She was alone. Everyone was gone. Mama and Papa were taken away in flood, along with their home. Her entire village wiped away like it never existed. She could still her mother’s desperate cries as their father struggled to place Ana and her sister, Raina on a makes shift float that used to be the roof of someone’s house.  The wet kiss on her forehead was the last loving gesture she would ever receive from her papa.

The flood eventually carried them near higher ground and between the two of them they have managed to pull each other up to safety. But it was the days after that did the most damage, between searching for food and clean water, Raina took to fever and Ana could do nothing for her sister except try to keep her warm when the temperature dropped at night.

Then a strange thing occurred, on the 4th day, a white wolf appeared. It had approached them cautiously.  Ana scared as she was, grabbed a branch to scare the animal away. But what even was more shocking, it spoke to her. A voice in their minds.

 _“Do not be afraid, little ones.”_

 _“Did you hear, that, Ana?” Raina asked, fearful._

 _Ana lied. “Hear what? Stop being silly, Raina. Don’t move, it will go away.”_

But instead it had curled around them; its pelt had felt so soft and warm. Exhausted and hungry, they fell into a deep sleep. She didn’t know how many days had gone by. The lack of warmth was what had eventually awoken her. The wolf was gone and in its place was a stranger with wild black curls and eyes.

She had carried Raina in her arms, and Ana had followed the woman to a village she never seen before. An older woman, silver haired, took them in and tried to save her sister, by placing damp cloths and herbs on her prone form. She chanted a song in prayer, her voice melodious and comforting.

Though she had a rough grasp on their language, they brought in another woman that was able to speak her village’s dialect. Ana told her story, while eating bread and honey given to her by the dark haired woman.  The silvered hair woman gave her a draught that made her drowsy and she fell asleep by her sister’s side.

 _Her dreams were of family, of Raina smiling and dancing with their papa. Her twin pulled away and ran to her, kissing her cheek. “It is okay, sister. I am well again. We will always be together. Time and time again. The white wolf told me so.”_

 _“No, Raina, stop being silly. You are sick, you were…we both were.”_

 _“_   
_Anastasiya, we will queens, real ones, not like our pretend games. You will see. Remember when Auntie Nadiya said we shared more than our face, we shared our soul. When I am gone, I will still be with you.”_

 _“Where are you going, Raina?  Stop talking this way! You can’t leave me.”_

 _“I love you sister. We will be reborn again one day, I will see you again.”_

When she woke up, Ana knew her sister was gone. It was the same sense that usually told her where Raina was during their games of hide and seeks or when she knew when something was bothering her.  It was gone. All that was left was emptiness in the pit of her stomach.  The black haired woman, named Itzel was asleep beside her. But the silver haired woman just looked at her and shook her head.

She had just finished kissing Raina’s cold cheek, when the large man named Micah, strode in and started shouting.

The silver haired woman finally spoke up, interrupting him. “That is enough, Micah. No more of this.”

“As I recall, Capoira, I am your Alpha too,” Micah pointed at Ana. “She cannot stay here. She is not one of our kind.”

“But she is.” Capoira said in tone that broke no room for argument, crossing her arms. “The Goddess favors her and has chosen her.”

“Don’t give me this nonsense again. You are our priestess, but I won’t have this talk about your supposed ‘prophecy.’ ”

Capoira shrugged, eyeing him shrewdly. “I thought you believed in the old ways, Micah. At least your wife did.”

Micah tensed. “Do not speak of her.”

“The prophecy is real!” Itzel added bravely, her hold on Ana tight. “I saw the white wolf. It was a sign! You know there is no suc—“

The priestess held up her hand, looking pointedly at Ana. “The white wolf spoke to her. You will not anger the Gods by seeing this girl to her death. Others will agree with me, the Old Ones will. You are Alpha, and thus you must uphold the old ways.”

Ana’s eyes went wide, understanding. How did she know? She still didn’t know if it had all been a dream or a terrible nightmare. Oh how she missed her sister. Raina, why did you leave me, Ana thought in despair.

Micah walked forward and pulled her from Itzel’s grasp, causing to cry out.

He took her by the arm easily and Ana didn’t doubt that he could break her arm like a twig, if he chose to. Speaking in her dialect, he asked, “Is this true? Did you, see this wolf? Did it talk to you?”

Heart beating rapidly in her chest, Ana couldn’t speak, and nodded.

He searched her eyes for a moment longer and released her. “Very well. She stays, you will change her name.  I don’t want humans claiming her as lost kin.” Micah pointed at Itzel, “You are responsible for her as if she is your own child and you will teach her our ways. If it all comes to past and it harms our pack, the blame will lay at your feet, Itzel.” He strode out, letting the wooden door slam shut. Ana jumped, startled at the sound of his exit and exhaled, along with the other women in the room.

“That went better than I expected it to.” Capoira said, smiling, coming over to Ana, brushed her hair back. “What shall you call her, Itzel?”

Itzel looked at the Ana, pondering the question. She smiled. “Iskra.”

The older woman nodded, “Yes, she is the spark of change. I see a fire that burns within her. This little one will do great things. Come, Iskra, let’s prepare your sister for her burial.”

And thus, Anastasiya Petros was buried the same day as her sister and reborn for the first time of many.

 

******

989 AD.

 

“Rebekah, Rebekah, where are you?” Niklaus called for his little sister. He sighed in exasperation; tapping down on the worry in his voice. It was bad enough that at seventeen years he had to be playing sitter to his high strung brat of a sibling. She had snuck out from her chores, actually bribed their younger brother, Henrik into doing them. The boy was too soft hearted and Rebekah never missed the chance to lord her older sibling status over him, even if it was by three years. 

Not that Niklaus could fault him much; he had once been in his place, even though he was older. His sister was a clever little witch, along with their other sibling, Finn.

By the time their mother noticed her missing, she had sent Niklaus to look for her before their father returned home from hunting with his brother, Elijah. Mikael would be in a terrible temper, if he found her missing from their homestead. Niklaus hated seeing her punished and often times, took the burnt of their father’s rages, even if they terrified him. Mikael was anything if traditional. A woman had her place—and Rebekah stubborn as she was, refused to learn it.

Niklaus felt sorry for the poor bastard that would take her as a wife, when she was older. 

He saw a flash of white out of the corner of his eyes though he pretended he didn’t see or hear the soft thread of feet on the ground behind him. He paused near the old white ash tree; leaned against it and then quickly turned to grab his would be stalker. “Got you, little witch! You are in so much troub—”

Only it wasn’t Rebekah, but another younger girl with long dark hair braided in a single plait. She was a tiny thing, smaller than his sister. She wore a tanned buckskin dress and deer hide boots that reached her skinny knees. Her doe brown eyes were opened wide, her mouth agape in surprise.

Distracted by the unexpected sight of the foreign girl, he didn’t hear his attacker dropped from above, tackling him from behind. Niklaus coughed as arms grasped his neck and driven by the momentum of the fall, two twin blonde braids of hair whacked him in the face. Well, he had expected it to take longer to find Rebekah. Niklaus could recognize that familiar girlish laughter anywhere.

The other girl tried to pull her arm away from his hold, but he held on, despite being almost strangled by his sibling.

Before he could process what was happening, the girl lunged and bit his wrist hard. The shock made him loosen his grip long enough for her to pull away. He cried out in pain. What she-devil was this? The girl glared at him and stomped on his foot for good measure before running away.

Niklaus let out an old Norse curse that would have done god, Loki proud. He shook his sister off his back. “That’s enough, Rebekah! What devil are you doing?”

“Don’t be so vulgar, Niklaus. Mother wouldn’t approve.”

He glared. “She also wouldn’t approve of you either, roughhousing like a boy. Climbing trees, Odin’s teeth, what has gotten into you?! A lady does not—“

“…does not behave so.” Rebekah rolled her eyes, stubbornly crossed her arms and jutted her chin in defiance. “Please stop. You almost sound like father.” She then stomped on his other foot.

Niklaus resisted the urge to strangle her and rub his aching foot. “Rebekah! You are so bloody—“

 “You scared her away, you wretch!”

He exclaimed in defense. “As I bloody well should have! She bit me! A little loyalty wouldn’t hurt, sister.”

His sister gave him no pity, smirking. “Serves you right.”

“Rebekah,” Niklaus warned, his patience quickly eroding, nudging her along. Silently wishing his brother was here to deal with such petulance. Elijah would have handled the situation with one stern look and it would be over. How on earth he had the patience for it, Niklaus would never know.“Come, we must go home before father comes back from the hunt.”

Rebekah stomped her foot, her face in a full sulk. “She was my new friend, Niklaus. She was teaching me how to hunt.”

He couldn’t resist the laughter from escaping, which earned him more death glares in his direction. “That tiny mouse? She looks no older than Henrik. Oh dear sister, you have a lot to learn. What could she have possibly taught you?”

Rebekah smiled haughtily. “Well, since you must know, she’s from the _other village_. And by other village, I mean, the wolves.”

 Niklaus couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice as they walked back home. “You are lying!”

 Everyone in their village knew who the wolf walkers were— their neighbors to east. They kept to themselves and would come in to their village on occasion for trading of goods, though it was recommended to socialize with them.  On every full moon they would take the form of wolf and terrify the countryside. They lived in peace with one and another, with the exception that on such nights, they would take shelter in the caves below their village.

“Oh, no brother, I am not. She was here with her mother, trading in the market. She let her come with me, while she did business. Her name is _Iskra_.”

He couldn’t deny his curiosity over his encounter with the girl. Something about the tribe called to him that he couldn’t explain. Even when the moon was full and it was forbidden to leave the safety of the caves, something inside him cried out to leave the shelter. But he had to set an example for his younger siblings. “You shouldn’t have left home, Rebekah. And I am sure mother wouldn’t like you---“

She rolled her eyes. “You were wrong by the way, she taught me this.” Rebekah flaunted his hunting knife in her hand. “Missing something, brother?”

Niklaus looked down to his empty sheath, outraged at her theft. She must have taken it during their struggle while he was distracted with the wolf girl. “You are dead sister.”

Rebekah laughed and ran, braids flying behind her. 

He chased after her and would have caught her had they been not a short distance away from their home. Their mother stood waiting at the doorway, she clasped her necklace nervously.

Rebekah slowed down as she reached their mother. Niklaus behind her. “Mother, I found her.”

Esther pursed her lips, “So I see. What did I tell you, Rebekah, about running?”

“Oh, mother, I am sorry. But you won’t believe who I met!”

“Rebekah,” Niklaus warned, already knowing what their mother’s reaction would be. Rebekah ignored him, too caught up from the thrill of the chase.

“One of the wolf walkers, their daught—“ His sister was caught off as a slap caught her in mid sentence. Rebekah cried, holding her cheek, her expression one of betrayal. “Mother…”

“That’s for abandoning your chores. And for running like some heathen. You know better young lady! Go inside.”

Rebekah’s blue eyes glittered with tears, she furiously brushed them away, gave her brother one last mournful look and walked silently inside.

Niklaus came forward, “Mother it was not—“ He was used to expecting violence from his father, rarely from his mother, so he didn’t the slap coming until it stung across his face. He must have shared the same look of betrayal his sister had shown moments before. His mother had never raised her hand at him in anger. Growing up, he had felt some indifference in manner toward him (unlike his other siblings), and if Niklaus didn’t know any better, fear. 

Esther said. “That’s for dallying with Rebekah and for associating with that _girl.”_

“Mother, but I wasn’t, Rebekah—“

“Niklaus, you are never to talk those people again. If they approach you, you turn around and walk the other way, do you understand me?” Esther came forward and griped his chin hard, “Do you understand? They are dangerous.”

“She was just a little girl, Mother…and I didn’t, look, Rebekah made a friend of her. I did not know who she was until afterwards.”

Esther shook her head anxiously, “You do not speak of this to your father, Niklaus. And you stay away from them.”

“Yes, mother.” Niklaus said softly, contrite. “I am sorry.”

She smiled at him and touched his cheek lightly. “Good….I…tend to the other horses. You father and Elijah will here any minute.”

She went back inside, leaving him alone to his thoughts. He still couldn’t understand why she had reacted so.  The girl was harmless and it wasn’t the first time Rebekah had ignored her household duties for play. He sighed and looked up, sensing eyes on him. It was their family’s healer, Ayana.

“One day you will understand, Niklaus.” she said, watching him from the window.

Confused, he asked. “Understand what, Ayana?”

Ayana smiled knowingly. “You will see.”

 

******

TBC

 


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to assume that Damon left before Klaus released Stefan from the compulsion, hence why he and Elena think they lost him forever etc. There are some Damon/Elena moments in here, since realistically, their attraction is canon, and I would be remiss to ignore it completely. Same thing for Stefan/Elena as well. I decided to add the other Original sibling, since I read a spoiler of his name online.  
> This chapter ended up longer than intended. Oops.
> 
> Chapter 3 will be up in a week or so, retail land is busy, unfortunately. Amma means grandmother in Norse, Fenris means wolf. Thank you for reading this odd little tale. –CE.

_“I wonder Klaus, after a thousand years of being one step ahead, were you prepared for this?”_

 _\--Stefan, Homecoming_

 _And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,_

 _With Ate by his side come hot from hell,_

 _Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice_

 _Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war;_

 _\--William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar_

 ****

**_2011, Mystic Falls_ **

 

“Would you like supersize your order, sir?” the perky redhead waitress asked. The girl leaned forward displaying her cleavage to its best advantage in low v neck shirt. Her pulse beat steady and he wondered briefly if she would taste like her scent, strawberries.

When he was human and a child, Damon had loved strawberries in the summer.

Pushing nostalgia aside, he sighed and decided to throw the girl a bone; he smiled and winked at her. “Nope, I’ll pass. Watching my cholesterol, you know. Gotta take care of the ole ticker.” He patted his unbeating heart. “To go.”

The waitress, named Mary giggled and took down his order.  “It will be right up, Mr.Salvatore.”

Okay, so being bored didn’t excuse the fact that he was playing burger errand boy for the humans. Cute busty waitress aside, it didn’t quite provide the stimulation he was used to. With the exception that in another time, he might have ripped into her throat for a refreshing pick me up.

Not that he wouldn’t still. Just not today.

 Damon wasn’t going to complain too much, since it was Elena that asked.  And when it came to Elena Gilbert, he was learning that it was getting pretty damn hard to say no. Plus, he kind of owed Alaric for the whole breaking his neck incident the month before. Food was the great equalizer. Hell, it worked for the Native Americans and pilgrims briefly, before they turned around killed each other.

He took a sip of his drink and relished as it burn down his throat. 

After brooding for a few days over failing his brother, he came to accept the fact that he wasn’t going to get Stefan back. This bothered him more than it should, especially when he was trying very hard to respect that invisible boundary that kept shrinking day after day with Elena.  It was getting harder to stay away, to be closer to her, to not let his touch linger longer than necessary.

Truth was he jumped up at that chance to run the food errand because it was getting pretty damn hard to focus during Elena’s training sessions. The way her body brushed up against his during their sparring was distracting and it wasn’t helping his resolve to not take what he wanted.

He loved his brother, but Damon would be the first one to admit he was an idiot. An emo, bipolar, goody two shoes idiot, who was now compelled to shut off his humanity and follow Klaus’s every order.

And yet Damon missed his brother.  And he loved his girl. So ironically, out of the times to develop a moral conscience, it was now.  It was laughable really; hilarious and infuriating to be placed in same damn position again.

He could take what he wanted, but he wouldn’t. It didn’t work that way with Elena.

He learned his lesson with Katherine. No, he should have learned his lesson with Katherine.  Centuries of living have taught Damon two important things: one, history doesn’t repeat itself, people do, even vampires. Two, never keep your back to door or entry ways—chances are someone is liable to sneak up behind and try kill you.

What can he say? Over the years, he’s done quite a bit to piss people off.

This time though, Damon broke his own rule. He would admit that he was lazy. Maybe his insolence was just asking for a way to thumb its nose at the uneasy peace in Mystic Falls. Whichever it was, he felt the movement in the air before he found his face slammed against the bar counter. He winced and choked out an “Ow.”

Mary, the waitress screamed as she dropped the bag with his order. He heard the other patrons of the Mystic Grille call out. Their fear was intoxicating and stirred his baser vampiric instincts, despite having his neck being crushed painfully at moment.

“Stop that,” that annoyingly familiar voice behind him compelled the hysterical girl. Mary’s next scream was cut short as if a switch was turned off. The girl stared in mute horror.

Damon decided not be stingy with tipping after this was over.  It was only fair.

“Thank you, dear, now, run along.”

Mary nodded dully and walked away.

Damon pushed himself up, only to be slammed down again. Okay, now this was getting old. “Ugh. Let me guess, you are looking for a new bff to knock around now, since Stefy left town? See, I knew deep down—”

“Wrong.” Klaus tightened his grip on his neck where it was moments away from being broken. “Guess again. Actually don’t. You talk too much.” He released his hold and turned around to address the crowd, “Nothing to see here, just some old school mates settling an old poker bet. Drinks on me.”

The patrons quickly settled down after the announcement and explanation. Food and booze, humanity’s weaknesses, it was almost too easy as compelling someone.

Damon lifted himself up and cracked his stiff neck. “How very civilized of you, Klaus. And here I thought you were just a psychotic asshole.”

“Pot calling the kettle are we, Salvatore?” Klaus smirked. He shrugged and took a seat. “Sit down.”

“Ummm, no.”

Klaus warned patiently. “I wasn’t asking you.”

“I think you are confusing me with Stefan. As in, I am not your bitch.”

The hybrid smiled as if amused, helping himself to the rest of Damon’s drink. “You are quite mistaken. I released your brother from compulsion the night of Mikael’s death.”

It was rare for Damon to be actually at loss for words. This may have been one of them as he tried to make sense of what the hybrid was saying. That wasn’t possible, if it was, why did Stefan save…Fuck. What the fuck did Stefan do? He narrowed his eyes as he recovered from the statement. “Bullshit.”

“As much as I am enjoying your charming vocabulary and your questionable taste in alcohol, Salvatore, it’s not, I can quite assure you of that. Stefan earned his freedom; his heroic gesture saving me from Mikael did not go unnoticed. He asked, and I rewarded him.” Klaus said with a mask of cordiality. He signaled to bartender, “Give me your best top shelf whiskey. Make it a double.”

This explained why he saved Klaus, but not his disappearance. He had to hand to his brother it was clever, and he executed his plan brilliantly. It wouldn’t have been Damon’s first choice as a plan of attack since it took care of the problem of Mikael, but not the hybrid and his little pet shop of horrors.  It still left Klaus alive and being a pain in his ass with his grandiose villain routine. And then there was Elena, whose blood was still the source of creating a new species. Elena, fuck, what would Elena do if she knew that Stefan was free of compulsion?

“Just like that, you let him go?” Damon said suspiciously, still refusing to sit down.

The bartender brought forth the order. Klaus inhaled the scent before taking a sip. “Simple as that. You see, Damon, your plan was too ambitious. You can’t kill two birds at once, it just gets sloppy. That’s why your plan failed horribly. Though it had potential, I admit, you and Elena’s elaborate scheme of wolfs bane grenades, Mikael and all that subterfuge with Katarina—it was a nice touch. I should be thanking you really. I’ll pay my regards to my doppelganger…later.” The hybrid sidled a grin in Damon’s direction. “She’s been an industrious little bee of late. All that rough housing brings a delightful flush to her skin. I am sure you would agree?”

Damon tensed. “You aren’t getting near her, Klaus. So forget it.”

“You are though.” Klaus said pointedly, eyes crafty. “I don’t recall Stefan being one to share, interesting. Just so you know I don’t take orders from a whelp such as you. I got a thousand years on you…boy.” The latter was tinged with bitterness that wasn’t lost on Damon. He finished his drink before continuing on. “You have yet to learn that this particular girl--this story, it’s all been done before.”

Damon opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off as Klaus held up his hand.

“I am not talking about Katarina. See, you and I, we are more alike than I would care to admit, Damon. You might get her for a little while, but you will lose her.”

Damon closed his mouth and shrugged it off.  “Thanks for the tip, Dr.Dew.” He opted to change the topic. Something didn’t feel right with Stefan now free and MIA, unless he was hiding under a rock somewhere writing out his feelings and remorse. “So you are saying if Stefan would’ve asked nicely, you might have considered letting him go? Yeah, right and I am Mother Theresa. “

Klaus shrugged. “She was actually a charming woman, which doesn’t apply to you unfortunately.”

Damon ignored the insult, rolling his eyes. “Okay, so if Stefan has his get out of Klaus free card, why are you here? What your family is still pissed at you for dragging them around for the past few centuries? And let’s not forget, gee, killing your mother? Can I get 200 for what are mommy and daddy issues, Alex?”

A crack was heard as the hybrid crushed the glass in his hand. The scent of blood filled the air, but the wounds quickly healed.  The façade of politeness melted off Klaus’s face, revealing an intense rage that would have made a lesser man run away.  “You know, Damon. I do believe you have a death wish. It can easily be arranged.”

Damon smirked. “Ouch, hit a nerve did I?”

Klaus tapped his fingers along the counter, “Don’t speak of things you do not know of. I am not going to tolerate your insolence any longer.”

“Living is for the weak as they say. Get to your point, man. I got places to be. So if you aren’t going to kill me now… ”

Klaus stood up, moving so fast that he felt the claws punching through his stomach before he had a chance to move. The hybrid placed an around him and twisted. Fucking hybrids. To outsiders, it might have looked like a friendly embrace instead of his internal organs being squeezed to a pulp . At least he didn’t need those anymore. Damon swallowed hard, trying to control the pain. “Fuck…off.”

“No, Salvatore, you _fuck_ off. Because you see, your brother, he did something very, very stupid.” Klaus twisted harder; he smiled to a passing couple on the way out. “He took some things of mine. So I can easily take something of his.”

He gasped in pain, “What are you talking about?”

Klaus glared at him, releasing him. Damon sagged against the counter, covering the wound with his jacket. He could feel it healing already, slowly.

“He took my family. And I want them back. So until he does, I will rain destruction and pain upon this one stop pony town and I am going to start by picking you off one by one.  And guess who I am going to keep alive, Damon,” Klaus leaned forward and implication clear in his tone, “it isn’t _you_.”

The name might as well been spoken out loud. Elena.

Damn Stefan to hell. To skip town after pissing off the hybrid that now has no known weapon to kill him with, whom also happens to have a growing army of hybrids at his beck and call. The Stefan he knew was never this reckless, would never put Elena in danger, unless…Katherine. It had to be. It was too coincidental that both of them left Mystic Falls at the same time. Damnit. “So that’s it? That’s your plan? You kill us, if you do; you realize you are never going to see your family again. If I know my brother, I am pretty sure he has the leverage.”

Klaus smiled as cleaned the blood from his hand with a napkin. “What I suggest is for you to convince your brother to stop this before it gets worse. Also, I don’t know what you have done to my sister, but if you have harmed her, I will rip you apart. Pass along the message to my girl, I normally don’t give warnings—but I will do it this time as a courtesy to her.”

“She isn’t—“

Klaus flicked away the bloodied napkin in his direction. He whistled a tune as walked away, departing with one final jab. “Well, she sure isn’t yours yet, mate.”

 

*****

 

Elena landed on her back painfully. She couldn’t decide whether to cry or gasp for breath as the wind was knocked out of her.  The impact was jarring enough that she bit her cheek causing blood to seep lightly into her mouth. She swallowed it back in distaste.

Alaric winced. “Caroline, I said—“

The blond glared at him, “Well, she should have been ready, besides, I don’t know why Elena is doing this---she’s human. She’s as good as dead if she ever had to defend herself against Klaus or those stupid hybrids.”  The latter was spat out like it was a dirty word.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Caroline.” Elena said as she picked her aching body from the floor.  She shared a suffering look with Alaric. The man raised his eyebrow in question at her friend. She shook her head, silently telling him not to push his luck. It was best not to rile the beast, in this case, Caroline—who was on a current man hating spree after her break up with Tyler.

Caroline shrugged, fluffing her hair as she took an admiring glance in the mirror. Then she looked down at her hands in disgust. “Ugh, I just got my nails done and they are already chipped. This is boring. Can we go? The new boutique on Brown St. has the cutest dress…”

Elena frowned. “No, Caroline. Besides, this is important. With Stefan gone, I can’t rely on you guys to always defend me. I don’t have powers like Bonnie and…”

“But you have Damon.” Caroline shot back, her tone disapproving.

“Caroline,” Elena warned, frowning. She was starting to regret inviting her friend over to help her train. She was grumpy as it was, getting up so early on the weekend, when sleep was hard to come by of late. All she had where nightmares and the sinking feeling that someone was watching her. She tried not to think of Stefan, her Stefan gone. It brought forth a bitter pang in her heart.

“You always have a backup.” Caroline murmured sullenly.

Elena glared at the sulky blonde. On the other hand, she kind of wanted to smack Tyler for setting her friend off this way, even if it was Caroline that ended things—it still didn’t change the fact that she was always meaner after a breakup. It didn’t help that she had company with Bonnie this time around too.

Actually, no, if there was one blond she wanted in front of her, it would have been him. Klaus. Elena had never felt this much anger for someone, but it was possible—so much that it outweighed her fear of him. She nursed the fire and it grew, until the urge to lash out got stronger every day. He ruined everything, he took— just the thought made her curl her hands into fists.

 It was one of the reasons why she continued to harass Alaric and Damon to continue to teach her self defense lessons. It was the only way to get that feeling out.

Next time she would pick a better sparring partner though. Caroline Forbes fought mean and dirty.  Elena rubbed her cheek where her friend’s foot had connected with her face.

“Don’t frown, Elena.  You’ll get wrinkles.” Caroline said, deciding to fix her hair back into a pony tail.

Elena snapped her patience ending. “Well, good thing that’s not something you have to worry about anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

Alaric chose the moment to wisely interrupt before things out of hand. He came between the two girls, hands out peacefully. “You know, she’s right. Strength isn’t what you need to focus on. It builds over time. You need to focus on your timing and your form. Speed is your friend, Elena. We will work on that instead. I have few drills that you can do. It will help your balance and that’s going to help you in the long run.” He looked at both them, “Come on, girls, truce? Let’s call it a day. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

Caroline sniffed, crossing her arms. “I just came here because Damon left and you guys needed another vampire to help Elena train. That’s all I am good for, apparently.”

“That’s not true, Caroline, we appreciate your help.” Alaric contested. “Right, Elena?”

Elena crossed her arms, sighed. “Right.”

“You don’t look really grateful, Elena.”

“Oh my God, Caroline, come on…” Elena said, unfolding her arms, exasperated.

“Maybe you should find another vampire to help you. Maybe Rebekah, wait, that’s right, you stabbed her in the back. Knocked her out just because you thought it was right, making decisions for her—”

Alaric scratched his head, confused. “Um, did I miss something?”

Elena closed eyes briefly, uncurled her fists and took a deep breath, mentally counting to ten. Caroline sometimes had that affect on a person. “God, where is Damon with the food. I am starving.”

Caroline murmured under her breath. “It’s always Damon now.”

“Caroline, stop it right now.” Elena resisted the urge to stamp her foot.

“Always Damon what?” Damon came in with two brown lunch bags from the Grille.

Elena turned around, blushing despite herself. Caroline was wrong, it wasn’t like that, with the exception that she was just really lying to herself. “Nothing, I just…what took you so long?” She saw something in his face that made her pause. “Are you okay?”

Whatever it was, it was gone quickly, replaced with a smile. Damon replied, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? You guys ready for some grub.”

“Good timing.” Alaric said, obviously relieved at having another male in the room.

Damon handed the bags to Elena. “No burgers, waitress dropped them, got you guys some pasta instead. Why don’t you go heat this up, think it got a little cold on the way here. I actually have to grab some lunch of my own.”

“Typical male.” Caroline rolled her eyes.

“You got a problem, Forbes? “

“Yeah, I got a problem—Elena, hey! Ow.” Caroline cried out as Elena dragged her towards the kitchen. 

Elena’s grip was firm. She was quite fed up with her friend’s antics. “Don’t mind her, Caroline and I are going to have a little chat. Girl talk. I’ll let you know when it’s ready, Alaric.” They disappeared around the corner, though their voices briefly carried back to the main living room, trailing off at, “I can’t believe you Caroline!”

“What was that about?” Damon asked, bewildered.

Alaric shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine. It kind of makes me glad I never had daughters. That was seconds away from becoming a fight club moment. So…what really kept you?”

Damon pulled back his jacket, revealing the hole and giant stain of blood on his shirt. “We have a problem.”

 

*****

 

“What is your deal? Between you and Bonnie lately, can you cool it?” Elena pleaded. The timer beeped as the microwave finished heating the food.  Her whole body ached from the bruising training session. “You nearly forgot I am your friend out there.”

Caroline sat stubbornly. “Well, you wanted to train with a supernatural, that’s what you get. And I don’t have a problem. Just...” she bit her lip, fidgeting with the end of her pony tail, “forget it.”

Elena persisted for she knew her friend only too well. “No, I won’t.  You have been in overdrive lately. You nearly bit Alaric’s head off when he said hi to you. I am starting to worry. If this is about Tyler…”

“No, it’s…God.  Yes, okay, Elena it is about Tyler, and it’s about…I miss him. I miss him so much and I hate that—”

The rest was unsaid, but she knew only too well what she meant.  “That subconsciously he will always be Klaus’s flunky?”

Caroline’s eyes filled with unshed tears, pushing herself up from the stool. “YES! God, it’s always Klaus this, and Klaus that. I fucking hate Klaus and his stupid dimples and that stupid accent! He ruined everything…and his sister. UGH!” She slammed her fist down on the granite countertop causing it a small crack in the stone.

Elena placed the food into plate, grimacing at the damage. She placed the plates over it. “Well, I can’t say I don’t know how you feel. And Rebekah isn’t a problem anymore.” Guilt and regret ate at her briefly at the reminder of her betrayal of the Original vampire. She had been so nervous and giddy over a silly high school dance that it made her seem almost human. Elena saw too much of herself, of who she used to be in her. But she knew it would have been sooner or later that eventually Rebekah would’ve turned on them. Just like Elijah. Their loyalties would always be to Klaus. Some ties couldn’t be broken, even after death.

“It’s not just that. Yeah, Stefan is under his compulsion, but you still get Damon. And I know this sounds horrible, Elena, but—not that I care for him, trust me on that, but you get everything! You get vampire blood in you and you die, and you still get to be human. ” A tear fell down Caroline’s cheek that she brushed it away as glance up at her friend.

Elena sighed heavily and took a seat. “You are right, Caroline, I do get everything and every guy.  I am so lucky. My parents are dead; my aunt made a vampire and killed in front of me in a ritual sacrifice, where I also died. My brother in love with a dead girl/ghost,” she paused and held up a hand at Caroline’s protest, “and yes, I know how coincidental that is considering my situation.  Oh, and my birth parents are dead—sacrificing their lives for my own. My boyfriend pretty much became a serial killer for the better part of the summer—who is also best friends with the bastard that took him from me and pretty much only wants me for my blood to build his super species army.  Not only that, I don’t even have my own face. I have a homicidal clone/twin; who my boyfriend loved at some point, along with his brother. Not only that, she gets to go around pretending to be me whenever the hell she feels like it. My life is perfect, Caroline. Let’s trade.”

Caroline sniffled, brushing away more tears with her hands. Her nose and cheeks were a blotchy red that marred the flawlessness of her porcelain skin. “You get to eat carbs.”

Elena smiled kindly, “And get fat and old. And get pushed around by any supernatural being out there.”

“I am sorry for being a bitch.” Caroline hugged her tightly. “And for that round house kick to your face.”

Elena laughed and hugged her back. “It’s okay; I will be ready next time with some vervain. And you are wrong about Damon. ”

Caroline pulled back and looked at her seriously. “Elena, we talked about this...”

“I know Caroline, but it’s not that simple.” Elena looked down. Her emotions were a mess lately; she had never been this confused before. Stefan was gone; she had to believe that or she would go crazy with hope that she would get him back and things would be normal like before. Because they wouldn’t be normal again. Especially with Damon and the guilt and attraction that flared up just by thinking about him.  “Men suck.”

“Yeah, they do.” Caroline agreed.

A loud bang echoed throughout the kitchen when one of the windows flew open. The noise startled them causing them to jump. Caroline let out a girlish shriek, huddling closer to her friend.  A cold draft breezed through the kitchen chilling her enough for goose bumps to pucker on her arms.  She shivered, tucking her hands into her long sleeves. Maybe she was imagining it, but she caught the faint scent of wild flowers, familiar and comforting.

Caroline asked, unnerved. “What the hell was that?”

Elena frowned and got up to look out the open window. The sky was overcast with dark nebulous clouds and winds were picking up speed, blowing more furious gusts into the kitchen. She firmly shut the window. The strength of the wind kept pushing the window open before she managed to get the latch back on. The window rattled in protest. “I don’t know. I think a storm is coming.”

 

*****

 

Even though she could have passed through it, just the thought of it swung the cellar open for her.  She closed her eyes and felt it shut behind her.  She didn’t have much time, Ayana was preparing for the ritual and she didn’t want to risk Esther discovering her presence. The old witch’s powers weren’t as strong as they used to be, but she had the gift of sight. Sooner or later, she was bound to discover Iskra and then she would know that Ayana sought to do much more than promised.

 Esther’s love for her children and her ambitions had always blinded her to certain truths. She was just going to use it to her advantage. Despite the fact that she would’ve relished a confrontation with the witch, other matters held more at stake than simple grudge.

Her old childhood friend lay face down on the dusty floor, golden locks of hair covering her face. A familiar silver knife with a bronze handle poked out of her back. Her throat constricted painfully at the memory of it against her throat. Shaking her head to brush the memory of terror aside, Iskra concentrated her energy into her hand, bent over to grip the handle and pulled.

The blade slip free and she shuddered at the power of magic that was released into the room. She sat by the door to wait. She didn’t have to wait long as the prone form began to move and gasp painfully. Rebekah cried out, managing to sit up, but soon fell into a mad fit of coughing.

Even as a ghost, she could still smell the perfume of vervain that filled the room.  It must terribly uncomfortable, she remembered how she and Itzel would tend to the wolves that fell sick upon encountering wolfs bane. It was exceeding painful for the younger ones.

“Hello, Rebekah.”

Rebekah stilled as she looked up at the sound of her name. Rage soon converted her lovely features into a mask of a predator, her fangs out and she lunged forward. “You bitch! I am going to drain the life out ofthat pathetic little body of yours. I don’t care how much Klaus wants you alive.”

Iskra held up her hand and flung it back. The motion swung Rebekah backwards. The Original vampire stared back in shock.  “Elena?”

She smiled grimly, having encountered her double moments before finding the cellar. Her spirit held the light of her sister, Raina, she would recognize it anywhere and couldn’t help but be drawn to it.  She stood up, pushing back the cloak that covered her form. Underneath, she wore the dress that Rebekah had given to her reluctantly to attend the festival of souls. She knew her old friend would remember the light green cloth that used to be her own.

The vampire’s eyes widen, she shaking her head. “No. No. You are dead.”

“As you are, old friend.”

Rebekah snarled back. “We were never friends.”

Iskra shrugged her smile sad. “True, your mother saw to that. But I always held you in high regard. Like a sister. Though it did not help that you were quite possessive of your brothers. You never could control that temper of yours. Just like Niklaus.”

Rebekah tried to lunge forward, but was stopped by an invisible wall. “Do not speak his name! You have no right!”

 “I have every right, or did you forget that it was I that was sacrificed that night!” Iskra glared back, she grew weary and her time was running short.  She could only control this magic for so long since it took too much energy to focus it altogether. “Besides just a fortnight ago, you were ready to betray and kill him.”

“He killed our mother and lied to us for centuries. And this is none of your concern, Iskra! Damn you, damn you and your wolves. If you never would have entered our lives, things would have been different. Henrik never would have died that night and Niklaus—”  Rebekah’s voice died down, and in the that brief respite, Iskra could see the grief and loss reflected back in her face.

“Yes. Things would have been very different.  I never could see the future. Your mother did. Do not forget it was not I that made the choice for you and your family, Rebekah. You damned yourselves. I damned myself by loving him.” Iskra held her head high, “And I was punished for it.”

“You are a bloody liar. You played them both like some cheap trollop.”

She couldn’t deny how her accusation hurt. Iskra said firmly, “That is not true. You know it isn’t so. I cared for both deeply, but I never was cruel or dishonest. Elijah respected my choice.”

Rebekah smirked. “So now what, Iskra? You are just a bloody ghost. You are nothing. You can’t keep me here forever. And I am going to kill Elena for being the treacherous coward that she is. And if Niklaus is alive, I will deal with him personally. ” 

“I am here to make things right.”

Rebekah laughed, finally breaking through the invisible wall. “Well, thank you. You are thousand years too late.” She walked past and reached for the door handle, when Iskra played her finally card.

“I have a message from your mother, Rebekah.”

Rebekah turned around, undisguised hope in her blue eyes.  For a moment, Iskra felt badly for what she was about to do.

“You are lying.”

“No, come here. I am weakening, please.” Iskra felt her form fading away, she reached her hand out.

Rebekah walked over and she held her hand. “What did she say?”

Iskra whispered into her ear, “She wants to bind your brother again. To restore the balance. ”

“I don’t blame her for wanting to put Niklaus down.”

“She said something else as well…” Iskra smiled as she felt herself being anchored to the earth again. Following Ayana’s instructions, she focused the energy and magic to the task at hand.

“What else?”

She gripped Rebekah’s face in her hands and felt the magic gather and quicken like lightening. The vampire gasped and tried to pull away. The struggle was brief, since the vervain had done its job in weakening her. The magic flared and burned her hands, it was too much—she felt like she was drowning in her blood all over again. Iskra fell forward to sink into the body of her new vessel.

She collapsed on the floor, pushing the blond hair back from her face. She gasped as she inhaled the poisonous air of vervain around her. It burned her lungs fiercely and made her nauseous. Iskra said to the empty room, “…she said never trust a Petrova.”

 

*****

 

 

 

992 AD.

 

Elijah hunched down low when saw the black wolf run cross the forest path. Droplets of rain fell from the sky, the beginnings of a summer storm brewing ahead.  He had separated from his brother, Niklaus a few minutes earlier thinking they could cover more ground. Bigger game was hard to come by, due to their neighbors to the east. The wolf was a surprise though—they were rare in these parts; he wished his brother was here to see.

It seems this maybe the culprit that had been harassing the village’s livestock for the past week. The villagers had thought it was wild dogs or a small bear.

They knew better than to name the wolves outright.  Peace was after all, a fragile thing.

 It was a normal wolf, for it was daylight and last full moon was weeks away.  It was a beautiful creature, not very big; it must be a female. The pelt would make a lovely winter coat for Rebekah, though it was still a few months away. Regret filled his heart, for it really was a magnificent animal. But the people were scared and restless over the killing of their livestock during a non full moon week. Murmurs of dissent from some of the braver fools were already casting blame to the wolf walkers.

It was better to cast the villain as a common wolf than have a war with the neighboring village.

He moved silently and quickly, following the wolf. He set his arrow in place and stretched the bow string taunt. Elijah took one step forward when he found himself thrown upwards in the air. The sudden jerk threw him off balance and made the arrow go wide to hit a nearby tree. Taken off guard, the bow fell from his hands. His vision spun around in circles before he figured out that he was caught in a trap, hanging by one leg a good several feet off the ground.  “Cursed Loki!”

Well, it was a good thing he did not have any witnesses. Niklaus would never let him live this down.

He stretched his arm out to reach the spare dagger strapped to his boot, when he heard the soft sound of a branch breaking. He froze and called out, “Who goes there?”

Silence. Then the soft thread of movement on the ground and the wolf’s face came into his view.  Elijah swallowed hard, fear making the blood rushing to his head worse. It was a good thing he was several feet off the ground and he doubted the animal could jump very high.

 The wolf didn’t move, just watched and lifted its snout to sniff the air. Never had he seen a wild wolf be so brave…and curious.

“Elijah, brother where are—“ Niklaus called out, as he came into view, stopping short when he saw the wolf and his brother hanging from the tree.  He saw the struggle of fear and humor run across his brother’s face. “Odin’s teeth look at you!”

“Niklaus do not come closer.”

“Well, I can’t leave you there. Though I wish Finn were here. He would love to capture this with his shell paints.”

If he wasn’t hanging upside down and dizzy, Elijah would have made a rude gesture in return. “Lovely.”

Then to his shock, the wolf moved away and made its way towards Niklaus. His brother’s laughter died and his hand went to his dagger sheathed at his side.

“Don’t make any sudden movements, brother.”

Niklaus nervously licked his lips, sweat beading his forehead. “It’s just one wolf, Elijah.”

Thunder could be heard in the distance, and the wolf was closing in on his brother. Elijah took the moment to grab the dagger and cut the rope that held his foot. He braced himself for the fall, landing roughly on his side. He rolled into a crouch to spring forward, when calmly, without a care in the world, the wolf plopped down on its belly at his brother’s feet. Its paw scratched his boot and it yipped, rolling on its back, belly up.

Elijah felt his mouth fall open in disbelief.  

Niklaus’s expression of fear turned into one of surprise. “What, look, Elijah—it’s…it likes me.”

“Don’t touch it—something is not right about it.” Elijah said unease at the animal’s behavior.

Knowing his brother’s impulsiveness, Niklaus disregarded his warning. He crouched down and scratched the wolf’s belly. The animal licked his hand in delight. Elijah sighed as he got up.  He was half way across to him when an arrow flew past and promptly landed an inch away from his foot.

Niklaus froze, sharing his shock with his brother. His hands automatically went to his dagger and then the wolf snarled, shifting back on its four feet. It snapped its jaws and growled fiercely at him.

“Leave her alone,” called a young female voice. Elijah looked around to get a sense of her location, but her voice echoed and carried itself through the path. He made a motion to Niklaus to stand and be still.

“I can see you, you know. I am not blind. Put down your weapons.”

Niklaus raised an eye brow at the remark. He sheathed his dagger and showed his hands to their hidden visitor. Elijah threw the dagger on the ground and did the same, clearly showing his hands in truce. Movement came from the brush and from the corner of his eye, he saw the girl.

She was small; she couldn’t be older than their brother, Finn or Rebekah yet she carried herself with an air of someone much older.  Her skin was tanned and smooth, her eyes dark as her hair, which was braided in an elaborate plait. She wore an indigo blue tunic belted at the waist over a long buckskin skirt, with long slits on the sides that he could see tall moccasin boots around her legs. Her expression was fierce and unforgiving, glaring at them both. In her hands, she held her bow strung with an arrow at the ready.

If he was the fanciful sort, which Elijah was not. He left that usual nonsense to Niklaus and Finn. But just this once, he would say that this girl reminded him of a _valkyrie_ from the old stories of the homeland that their _amma_ used to tell them before they immigrated to the new lands.

Niklaus stared back, recognition dawning on and pointed his finger at her. “You. I know you!”

“You do?”

His brother nodded, “Yes, she…bit me.”

“What?!”

Niklaus shrugged sheepishly, embarrassed. “It…was a while ago.”

The girl ignored them both, she called out to the wolf in a dialect that made Elijah’s eyes widen.  The only place he had heard that dialect before was when one of the villagers from the neighboring village to the east came into their village to trade. The wolves! Niklaus glanced at his brother and nodded in confirmation. “Yes, she’s—”

“I am nothing to concern yourself with.” The girl said hotly. She then leaned down to whisper something to the wolf. Her expression shifted into one of surprise and disbelief, then curiosity.  Her gaze honed in on Niklaus. He shifted uncomfortably, his hands restless at his sides. The girl walked over to him, circling him curiously.  “He’s not special at all, Raina. He’s—“

She stopped and paused as she finally saw something in his younger brother’s eyes. “I see.”

The girl backed away from Niklaus, lowering her bow. She turned her attention back to Elijah. “You, Hunter. You should have more respect and care as to what you choose to hunt.”

Elijah felt like he was being chastised by their mother, ridiculous as it was, a blush spread across his face and his ears burned. “I—I didn’t mean to…”

“Of course, your kind never do.”

He resisted the urge to laugh at her remark. Elijah asked instead, “My kind?”

“I better not catch you again, “she said sternly.

“Or what, little girl?” Niklaus prompted, insolent bravo back in place. He took a step forward, raising the hackles of the wolf next to her. “Who is to say, who will catch whom?”

The girl’s fierce expression shifted into amusement before melting back into the shadows of the forest. “You will never catch me, Niklaus.”

Then she was gone, along with the wolf and the clouds choose that moment to open up in a downpour. The rain shook Elijah out of his stupor. The whole encounter seemed like a dream, surreal enough that he asked his brother, “Did that just happen?”

Niklaus shared his bemusement. “I am not quite sure of that myself. It has to be her. She hasn’t grown much.”

“Her?”

Niklaus picked up his bow and handed it back to him. “The girl, she…I don’t even recall her name. It had to be three summers ago since I last came across her. Anyway, I wouldn’t trust her.”

Elijah laughed, trudging through the wet muddy ground as they made their way back home. “She is just a child. I am sure her bark is worse than her bite.” Niklaus rolled his eyes at the bad pun. Elijah continued, “That wolf of hers seemed to fancy you much. Careful, Helga will get jealous.”

His brother blushed at the tease of the homely village girl that pined after him. He replied back, “True. And that stays between us. Or I will tell everyone how I found you hanging upside down a tree and bested by a girl no older than Rebekah.”

“Very well, little brother.” Elijah conceded, swinging his arm over his shoulder. “Well, at least the afternoon was entertaining.”

“May I confess something to you, Elijah?”

“Anything.”

Niklaus said, “I wasn’t afraid of the wolf at all. It’s…almost like I could communicate with it. Almost like a kinship. Isn’t that odd?”

Elijah gave him a worried glance. “Careful, Niklaus, that kind of talk at home—you were scared. It’s normal to be afraid. ”

Niklaus disagreed with him, pausing briefly on the path. “No, Elijah, the wolf didn’t frighten me at all. Not like father. The girl though...”

“… was unnerving,” Elijah answered in agreement, “Sometimes girls are like that. Look at Rebekah, she terrifies me at times. Never fear little brother; your secret is safe with me. Come, let’s go home. Mother is going to thrash us for muddying up the entry way.”

The rain fell harder, lashing down without mercy —and yet despite it, Elijah could not shake the sense of eyes watching them. He smiled inwardly, thinking of the little _valkyrie_ with her fenris.

 

****

 

Alaric and Damon had decided not mention anything that had occurred with Klaus to Elena, until they got into contact with Stefan. His brother being the prick that he was at moment wasn’t answering. Neither was Katherine. Damon refused to get Elena’s hopes up, so he remained silent until he figured out how to deal with the Klaus situation.

“You didn’t have to walk me home, Damon.” Elena said as they reached the front steps of the patio. 

Damon disagreed. “Yeah, I did. Klaus and his minions are still out there.” _And Klaus freed Stefan of compulsion,_ _you forgot to tell her that_ said an annoying inner voice.  He shooed it away, and gave Elena his best smolder. “Can’t be too careful.”

Elena sighed and crossed her arms, shivering. “Yeah, tell me about it. Thanks for helping train, Damon.”

“No problem, warrior princess. You are shaping up pretty well. Things cool with you and Vampire Barbie? Those death glares were getting _pretty_ annoying.”

Elena laughed. “She’s going through a phase. Tyler—you know. I can’t really blame her. We are okay though.”

“Well, he was werewolf before and hybrid now, so he was dick either way.”

Elena raised her eyebrow at him. “Really now? I have it on good authority that vampires are dicks too.”

“You are right, I do have the best kind.” 

She wrinkled her face in disgust, giggling. “Eww, Damon. TMI.”

He winked at her, enjoying the smile on her face. She was too darn cute, God, he was a sap. “Come on, Gilbert, you know you are curious.”

Elena looked down briefly, blushing. She looked up again, this time serious. “Stop it, Damon.”

Well, he could take a hint, feeling slightly deflated. Damon asked, “Too soon?”

Elena nodded, pointing up at the window. “Yeah, I got go. I need to shower. And to check up on Jeremy.”

Damon chose to save the visual of Elena showering for later on. He closed his eyes and clenched his hands. He was hopeless.

She walked up the steps, paused and walked back to kiss his cheek, her lips were soft and warm on his skin. “Goodnight Damon.”

He watched her go. Damon fought with himself not grab her and kiss her senseless, even when the truth threatened to spill forth. To tell her about Stefan, that he wasn’t lost to them anymore. That she could have him back. That she was in terrible danger and he would do everything he could to keep her safe.

“Elena, wait.”

She turned around, “Yes, Damon?”

Tell her, you idiot, tell her!  But Klaus’s words came back to taunt him.

 _“You might get her for a little while, but you will lose her.”_

“I—nothing, goodnight, Elena.”

He didn’t leave until the door closed and he could hear her going up the stairs calling Jeremy’s name. Damon sighed and decided to look for someone to feed on. Maybe he would pay Mary, the waitress a visit.

 

****

 

He stepped out of the shadows behind the old oak tree and smirked at the retreating form of the Damon Salvatore. Pathetic really. He had to hand it to the elder Salvatore though; he had fortitude to resist such temptation. The memories of such pleasurable encounters invaded his mind. Klaus shuddered in response and quickly locked them away. He had no time for nostalgia; it would only lead down a dangerous road he no longer traveled.

 Klaus looked up at the window, where the light turned on. It bathed her form in light. She was exceeding lovely, almost as lovely as _her_. He had forbidden himself from ever saying her name again. The day she died, he buried her forever.

He felt that annoying pest of his humanity creep forward. He cursed the god Loki in his mother tongue, for his trickery of temptation.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

****

 

Jeremy woke up startled; he wiped the drool that had trailed on his pillow in disgust. He must have fallen asleep after eating a frozen dinner and sketching a portrait of Ana. Just the thought of her depressed him. He had tried contacting, calling her name, but she never came ever since Halloween night.

He heard the sound of the shower running; his sister must be back from the boarding house. He yawned and looked at his sketchpad, tracing his fingers over Ana’s lips.

Something flickered in front of the foot of his bed, causing him to nearly stumble off.

Ana appeared. Her face worried, she rushed to his side. “Jeremy, Jeremy, you can’t—don’t let her in.”

He jumped off the bed and went to her. “Ana, what’s going on? Don’t let who in?”

Ana flickered, her body fading in and out that he could barely touch her. She cried out in pain.

 “Ana? Are you okay?”

“Jeremy, run. I am trying to hold her back, but she’s too strong.”

He asked, worried for her. “Who?”

Ana’s flickered out before she could answer. She disappeared as if a gust of wind had blown her out. “Ana?”

“Hello, Mr. Gilbert.”

Jeremy jerked back as the blonde woman came forward. “Who the hell are you? Where is Ana? I swear if you hurt her—”

The woman chuckled, amused. “I am already dead, Mr. Gilbert. Don’t worry, you will see her soon.”

“What the—?”

The woman was quick, her hands burning upon his neck. Jeremy cried out as he struggled to push her away. “You are death touched, Jeremy.  I promise it won’t hurt much, I will only need your assistance for a day or two.”

His vision went dark as the burning lessened and he felt himself fading away. The last thing he was of conscious was of his body falling to the floor.

 

****

 

Elena heard the thud next to her room just as she finishing up putting on her pajamas. Concerned, she rushed over to her brother’s room. She tried opening the door, but found it locked and cold, surprisingly so. She jerked her hand away and knocked on the door. “Jeremy, are you okay? Jer, open, please? I heard—“

Her hand fell forward as the door opened. Jeremy peered at her curiously. “Yes…Elena?”

She frowned, a little taken aback. There was something, something felt odd. “Are you okay? I heard this thud.”

“No. Umm, my book fell from the bed.”

“It sounded louder than just a book.”

“I don’t know, Elena. I am pretty sure I was there.”

Elena crossed her arms defensively, not liking his tone. “You don’t have to be a jerk about, Jer. I was worried. Especially with Klaus and Stef—.”

“Oh I know about Klaus, Elena,” he interrupted her, “Look, I am fine, really.” He opened the door further and showed her his room. “See, no monsters.”

She bit her lip nervously and glanced at him. Elena couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. “Okay, I am sorry. I am just—“

“Tired. You should get some rest. You have a busy couple of days ahead of you.”

She was being silly. Nothing was wrong. Maybe she imagined the noise louder than it had been. Between Damon, Stefan and Klaus, Elena could admit that she had been way too jumpy these past two weeks to think clearly. Add in a few sleepless nights and that was perfect recipe for paranoia. She smiled at her brother and hugged him. Jeremy awkwardly patted her back.

“Goodnight Jer. I am making pancakes tomorrow. Blueberries. I know I haven’t been around much, with training and—I will make it up to you.”

 “Sounds good. Goodnight, Elena.”

 

****

Esther closed the door, clicking the lock into place and smiled. Well, that was interesting. Her emotions toward the doppelganger were a mixture of resentment and apathy. The girl really was identical to her, with some slight differences. She could sense the light in her, its power radiating warmth and hope—something the other doppelganger had shared at some point. Even her. The original Petros girl.

 She would make a good sacrifice for the ritual. She had to restore the balance and stop her son from further madness.

 Esther crossed over to the mirror and studied her vessel that was Jeremy Gilbert. It wasn’t ideal and not to her taste, but it would do for now.

 

TBC


End file.
